


Hot Dog Truck

by bibliothekara



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, One Shot, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Sam Wilson is So Done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 21:25:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18747415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliothekara/pseuds/bibliothekara
Summary: "Sam knows that the team worries about him. But he's fine. Really."(or, yeah, Sam has a 'Cap voice', but he can't hold the kid at arm's length forever.)





	Hot Dog Truck

Sam knows that the team worries about him. But he's fine. Really.

Shit, he knows that he worried about Steve all the damn time. Wasn't exactly quiet about it either, when the moment and venue were appropriate. Meaning a lot of diner pancakes came with a heaping side of Dude Please Take Better Care of Yourself syrup. But fortunately, there's not a clone/double Sam Wilson on the team. (Yet.) (He is avoiding diving too deeply into THAT mission report multiverse mess for the time being.)

Frankly, he doesn't see where there's that much too worry about. (Yet.) He's doing a better job at this Captain America thing then he thought he might, and that's not being humble about it. Rhodey and Danvers easing gracefully into a nice chain of command groove has helped in the rest of the cat-herding. (Not a pun, T'Challa, he swears.)

But it's been...a lot.

Sam may have almost perfected ways of hiding it; the stride, the poker face, resisting every third quip, the 'Cap voice'. (Thank god Carol only does her impression of the voice when it's the two of them.) But he's not always expert at hiding the strain.

When Barnes, of all people, gently reminds you that R&R is a thing, you tend to review your life choices. (Bucky knows why he does it, partly, even if there's a fight about it they're not going to have yet.)

But Sam has yet to really accept that there will be those utterly shitty days that he could have fixed but didn't. Days when he can't stop Strange from saying *the* wrong thing to T'Challa, days when Wanda's rage boils over and leaves scars, days when these weird puzzle piece people just don’t fit together like he wants. Days he can't bring everybody home.

And then there's the kid.

Sam’s held himself aside from the kid, for Peter’s sake. He knows there's no way to cork that particular genie back again, and so he tries to work through it. Even if he's not sure there's a right way to...is supervise the right word? Supervise a kid, with impressive powers and great instincts and a heart the size of Toledo, in what can only be called combat situations. And oh man, the knock down drag out fights Nick and Sam have had about that particular subject. (Since Sam can't have it out with the 5 foot 9 shadow in the room.) What they've come to is a reasonable detente: The kid needs a captain. When he's an Avenger and not The Friendly Neighborhood..whatever, he needs discipline and structure and someone to get him through to the end of the day.

Sam holds himself apart from Peter for Peter's sake. Also, selfishly, for his own.

(because Riley was The Kid once)

(and so was Steve)

(not gonna get into that before 2 scotches)

But of course, one of those days comes. A mission which can only be described as a flat out mess, a fight they only get through by the skin of their teeth, a team dispersed.

At the end of the day Sam’s sitting there spent, on a roof without an address, the new mask half hanging off his face, legs swinging unconsciously swinging. Not even noticing when the kid sits down next to him.

“Hey Cap- I mean, Mr. Wilson, …I mean-“

He half-smiled.

“I told you, you can call me Sam, kid.”

“You'll always have to tell me one more time.”

And they’re silent for a moment. And now Sam knows it’s been one of the shitty days. Because Peter’s not doing the usual infodump; when along the line did Sam start needing it?

“You did good today, Pete.”

“Aw, thanks, man,- oh shit, I mean, Sam...”

Sam's next word slips out, calmly.

“Language.”

Where did that come from? He wasn’t on that mission..

And suddenly Sam's looking straight on at Peter’s face, both of them a bit shocked. Because whatever they’ve been, it hasn’t been parental, ever.

Sam starts to laugh, and Peter starts to laugh, and suddenly they are two guys bent over on top of a wrecked industrial park in Bangor, Maine. Snorting and laughing until it’s hard to breathe.

It’s while they’re calming down that Peter's literally staring down at their feet (covered in...ectoplasm, maybe?). And he does that Kid witchcraft. Saying the exact wrong/right thing at the moment it needs saying.

“Those are some big boots to fill."

(Sam’s breath catches, his eyes watering just a bit.)

“Yeah, kid. Yeah, they really are.”

“You’re doing a really good job. I think he’d think -“

(Not old Steve in assisted living in Rockaway. Young Steve. Some how this is specified in Peter’s voice.)

“He'd think that you’re doing a really, really good job.”

Sam can’t quite look at him, so he focuses on that hot dog truck overturned a few blocks away.

“I think- I know *he’d* think the same thing about you, Pete.”

Peter catches the shifted emphasis, thankfully. Because Sam's pretty sure he couldn't get the words out again. There’s just not that much emotional bandwidth left in the day.

Sam still can’t look at Peter. But he reaches out to grab his hand, fumblingly.

Sam feels the kid smiling, as they look out on an Atlantic Ocean sunset.

*fin*

**Author's Note:**

> Repost/polishing of a Tumblr emotion-vomit meta that somehow turned into fic, because I am already obsessed with the domestific of the Phase 4 folks.


End file.
